Let It Snow -- One Piece (Zoro/Sanji)
Zoro remembers the first winter he spent as a bounty hunter. The wind was harsh against his face and every time he inhaled his noise went numb. He slept in the snow for hours and got frostbite on his fingers and toes.
In time, he taught his body to shut down and ignore the elements, though he still catches himself shivering or sporting a runny nose. He stands shirtless in the snow and waves off the protests that reach his winter-reddened ears.
He can handle the cold. He can handle anything.
But the fire is so delightful
Zoro doesn’t know why he’s thinking about snow while he’s kissing Sanji. Sanji is the complete opposite of snow. Sanji is heat, fingers slipping around his neck, hard leg pressing between his thighs, tongue lapping at the corner of his mouth.
The galley, already, is warm, but kissing Sanji ignites a fire in Zoro’s gut, the flames licking at his heart and loins. Zoro has fought long and hard, but he’s never been able to make his body shut down and ignore Sanji. So all he can do now is give in.
And since we’ve no place to go
Zoro hears the winter wind outside. It taunts him and calls to him. It wants to test him and he is tempted to answer the beckoning. But then Sanji pulls him closer and their arousals bump and rub and Zoro tells the wind and snow to kindly shut it, because he’s not going anywhere.
He can handle the snow. He can handle anything.
But why should he, when he can bask in Sanji’s heat instead?
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow
In time, he taught his body to shut down and ignore the elements, though he still catches himself shivering or sporting a runny nose. He stands shirtless in the snow and waves off the protests that reach his winter-reddened ears.
He can handle the cold. He can handle anything.
But the fire is so delightful
Zoro doesn’t know why he’s thinking about snow while he’s kissing Sanji. Sanji is the complete opposite of snow. Sanji is heat, fingers slipping around his neck, hard leg pressing between his thighs, tongue lapping at the corner of his mouth.
The galley, already, is warm, but kissing Sanji ignites a fire in Zoro’s gut, the flames licking at his heart and loins. Zoro has fought long and hard, but he’s never been able to make his body shut down and ignore Sanji. So all he can do now is give in.
And since we’ve no place to go
Zoro hears the winter wind outside. It taunts him and calls to him. It wants to test him and he is tempted to answer the beckoning. But then Sanji pulls him closer and their arousals bump and rub and Zoro tells the wind and snow to kindly shut it, because he’s not going anywhere.
He can handle the snow. He can handle anything.
But why should he, when he can bask in Sanji’s heat instead?
Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow